


if you want it (take it)

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama & Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 05:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: coming from old money, the importance of riches and status doesn’t appeal to yukhei as much as mark does.“I know I’m not in the place to give you advice,” Yukhei starts, watching as Mark’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. “But if there’s one thing I learnt from all my years of being my dad’s fucking puppet, it’s if you want something, you have to take it.”He’s said this to Mark before. If there’s nothing Mark remembers, he should at least remember this. “Because no one else is going to give you want you want,” Mark continues, repeating the quote the same way Yukhei first said it to him years ago.





	if you want it (take it)

**Author's Note:**

> it all started because i said [this](https://twitter.com/lucashaeyadwae/status/1136845617194389504).

Pretentious social functions at lavishly decorated ballrooms has never been Yukhei’s style. As heir to the established Wong Corporation in Hong Kong, Yukhei is expected to be present to mix and mingle with the rest of high society. Being a socialite was never part of Yukhei’s life plan—he just wanted to cash in his hefty trust fund and live off of it for the rest of his life without worry.

Alas, his father has other plans for him.

Yukhei doesn’t think he has what it takes to head a large company, moreover Wong Corporation. The pressure is heavy on his shoulders. His grandfather built the company from the ground up and his father expanded it into the conglomerate it is today. Yukhei hails from a line of successful Wong men, but what else is there for him to do with Wong Corporation when it’s already this big?

All he can do is try not to ruin it, maybe.

Yukhei laughs bitterly to himself every time he thinks about it. He’s by no means unintelligent—he graduated with honours from the Ivy League university his father insisted that he attend. His double degree in law and economics isn’t something he likes the flaunt, but he prides himself in knowing that it’s one thing that he didn’t buy with money.

As he stands here looking at the attendees of the night, he can’t help but roll his eyes at how pompous this whole situation is. A bunch of rich kids and their richer parents gathered in one place just to humble brag about what they have and what they aspire to have. It’s a competition among the top 1% to see who’s the best at promoting themselves.

At the end of the day, it’s not a scene that he thrives in.

The only thing Yukhei truly enjoys about these functions is the free flow of champagne. He helps himself to glass after glass of the bubbly alcohol as he’s forced to make small talk with anyone who approaches him. His father has groomed him ever since he was a child at the tender age of six—address everyone with their given titles, make as much eye contact as possible, and smile politely and nod whenever required.

It’s one of the worst things about being the oldest son in a Chinese family. He’s expected to learn the tricks of the trade so that he can succeed his father’s glory and bring honour to the family name. His younger brother is by no means subjected to the responsibilities that he shoulders.

Yukhei is on his fourth glass of champagne in the middle of the night as he quietly chuckles at a joke that the reputable Mr. Lee just told. To be honest, Yukhei barely registered the nature of the joke, but if Mr. Lee is laughing, Yukhei will just have to follow suit.

“I’m sure you’ve met my son,” Mr. Lee says with pride in his voice. He waves over a man just slightly shorter in stature than Yukhei. “Mark, this is Mr. Wong’s son, Lucas.”

“Yukhei,” Yukhei corrects, smiling gently at Mr. Lee. “There’s no need to call me Lucas. We’re more familiar than that.”

Mr. Lee chuckles happily at that. “I’ll leave you boys to talk. Make friends, Mark! Yukhei here is a bright one. Maybe he’ll be able to teach you a thing or two,” Mr. Lee says to his son, clapping the young man on the back before he walks away to socialise with someone else.

Yukhei then directs his attention to Mark, who’s standing awkwardly with a glass of whiskey in one of his hands. Yukhei watches as Mark runs the fingers of his free hand through his jet black hair, musing up the gelled back strands.

Mark Lee is Mr. Lee’s second-born son. He’s said to be a workaholic and he’s very hands-on when taking up projects for Lee Group. There’s a lot to be said about Mark—he was passed the baton to take over the company after his older brother fled to the United States of America (rumour has it that he eloped after choosing a partner his family disapproved of) and Mark takes his job as COO very seriously.

Mark is dependable and ambitious. He has visions for improving Lee Group and he has made huge deals on their behalf in acquiring massive stretches of land that they have plans to develop into luxury real estate. He’s level-headed and eager to learn, and most things come second to his work.

Yukhei would know.

Mark’s his ex-boyfriend.

“I didn’t think that you’d attend,” Yukhei states as a matter of fact, skipping the formalities of greeting Mark. He didn’t see Mark walk through the grand double doors earlier but he didn’t expect to see Mark at all. Mark despises these sort of social gatherings as much as he does.

Mark clears his throat and purses his lips before replying. “I just closed a deal with Seo Industries,” he says quietly. “Johnny made me come.”

Yukhei raises an eyebrow at that, watching as Mark squirms uncomfortably in his spot. It’s not like Mark to look so small. He might be shorter than Yukhei, but he’s always had a larger presence. His aura commands excellence, but it seems like only Yukhei ever sees this side of him.

“You didn’t tell me that you knew my dad,” Mark adds.

“You never tell me anything,” Yukhei counters. He feels bad directly after he says it. “I’m sorry, that was a low blow.”

Mark winces as he hears Yukhei’s words but he doesn’t argue back. He calmly takes a gulp of his whiskey, swiftly emptying the glass in one go.

“I accompanied my dad to a business meeting with Mr. Lee once,” Yukhei opts to explain. “That’s how I know him.”

Mark nods in understanding. “Cool.”

This whole situation is suffocating. Yukhei already hates having to stand in this stupid ballroom and waste his life away as he pretends to enjoy himself in the midst of people he’d rather not spend any time with. Mark’s presence used to be a comforting one back when they were together even if they didn’t do their rounds of the ballroom side by side.

Now it feels like the walls are closing in on him and Mark’s just another obstacle he needs to get across before he can escape.

Mark’s always been observant. There’s a knowing look in his eyes as he watches Yukhei down his champagne.

Yukhei pretends not to notice him staring.

It goes unsaid that this conversation is over before it could even start. There’s nothing else for them to say to each other if not to make aimless small talk over how their companies are faring on the stock market or what form of transportation they’ll be taking to get to their respective holiday homes this year.

Mark motions to leave, but not before brushing past Yukhei’s shoulder. He leans up to whisper into Yukhei’s ear. “Meet me outside at 10.”

The words send a shiver down Yukhei’s spine. He hasn’t heard that in a while—four months to be exact.

Mark doesn’t wait for a response before he’s off, walking in the direction of the heir to Jung Banking who’s heartily laughing over glasses of wine with the CFO of Nakamoto Motor Company.

 

The clock strikes 10PM before Yukhei can wrap his head around it completely. Should he stay? Should he go? The questions rush through his mind as he continues smiling sweetly at Mrs. Qian, his best friend Qian Kun’s mother. His ears are listening to the words that she’s saying but his thoughts are off wandering in another dimension.

Kun knew of Yukhei’s predicament without even having to ask. All it took was one glance at Mark and he already knew that Yukhei would be troubled for the rest of the night. He takes a grip of his mother’s arm. “Ma, you need to stop talking to Xuxi like he’s a child,” he says to her. “We’re grown men now. He doesn’t want to come over to ‘play’ anymore.”

Yukhei laughs politely. “No, Kun is wrong,” he denies. “I’d love to come over and play. I’ve missed your red wine chicken. No Fujian restaurant could ever make it the way you do.”

Mrs. Qian is pleased to hear that as she beams from ear to ear. “Then make sure you come and visit! The house has been so quiet ever since Kun moved out. If I can’t rely on my son to come home more often, I’d expect my godson to make up for it.”

Yukhei chuckles and promises that he will, watching passively as Kun ushers his mother away to his father’s side.

Kun comes back once Mrs. Qian is occupied with speaking to another lady nearby. “Xuxi,” he starts, directing a frantic look towards the circle where Mark was last seen chatting with his friends. “You’re not thinking about going out there, are you?”

Yukhei glances down at his watch. It’s his favourite wristwatch—an antique Rolex that his father gifted to him on his 21st birthday. The hands on the face of the watch show him that it’s 13 minutes past 10. Yukhei sighs.

“I told Johnny not to bring him,” Kun complains, rolling his eyes. “It’s one step forwards and three steps back whenever you see him. How many times have you broken up and gotten back together? Millions! I’m not going to let you go back out there.”

Yukhei places his empty champagne flute onto the tray a passing waiter offers to him. That was his sixth drink of the night. “We’ve only broken up three times,” Yukhei responds flatly. “And that’s including the time we took a break in university. Otherwise we’ve only broken up twice.”

“And that’s two times more than the average successful couple.”

Yukhei laughs dryly. “Okay, I won’t go out there.”

10.16PM.

Yukhei looks up from his watch to see that Kun is massaging one of his temples with his fingers as he takes a sip of the red wine in his hand.

“We both know that’s a lie.”

 

Yukhei goes out there against his better judgement. It’s 10.27PM by the time he makes his way to the spot in the garden where only he and Mark know. That’s almost a half hour since the time Mark told him that they should meet. He doesn’t expect to see Mark there, standing in the gazebo waiting for him with an empty glass of whiskey in his hands, but he does.

Mark looks up when he hears Yukhei’s footsteps against the gravel path. “You came,” he exclaims softly, placing his empty glass on the wooden railing of the gazebo.

Yukhei hesitantly approaches him, not knowing what he should say to break the tension. They haven’t spoken in four months ever since their amicable break up over the phone that day.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says after that.

Yukhei leans against the railing, resting his forearms on the wooden structure. He doesn’t look at Mark directly. “What for?” he asks, and his voice is raspy to his own ears. It sounds a bit choked, to be honest. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Mark mirrors his position and Yukhei feels Mark’s gaze leave his person.

The both of them stare down at the shrubs planted below the gazebo.

“I don’t want the money,” Mark blurts out. “I don’t want the status. I don’t want the stupid luxury.” It sounds sincere—genuine—more so than anything else Yukhei has ever heard come from Mark’s mouth. “I only want one thing.”

Yukhei feels his throat tighten as he reluctantly tears his eyes away from the greenery, turning to look at Mark under the dim light. When Mark looks up to meet his eyes, Yukhei doesn’t look away. “What do you want?” Yukhei asks. Saying the words takes him more courage than he’d like to admit.

“You,” Mark admits. He reaches up with both his hands, his fingers resting against the sides of Yukhei’s face as he looks up at Yukhei. His eyes are gleaming under the warm lighting. “I only want you.”

“But it doesn’t seem like it,” Yukhei retorts, but not unkindly. He’s simply stating facts. “That’s not what it seems to me.”

Mark sighs. “I already said that I’m sorry,” he replies. “I don’t know what else you want from me. I’m sorry, Xuxi. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I want you to want me the way I want you!” Yukhei yells. It’s the first time he’s said these words out loud and it surprises even him. “I’d give it all up for you.”

Mark’s expression is pained.

Yukhei steps backwards as he loosens his tie. He still finds it stuffy even though he’s standing in an open area with Mark. He watches as Mark’s hands fall limply to his side, his wide-eyed expression still on his face as he locks eyes with Yukhei. “It’s hot as all hell out here,” Yukhei curses under his breath. He shrugs off his coat.

Mark takes Yukhei’s coat from him and hangs it over the railing.

They stand in silence as Yukhei continues taking off his cufflinks to throw them onto the ground. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt after.

“Your buttons,” Mark supplies, breaking the silence.

Yukhei looks at him questioningly.

“Your buttons,” he repeats, his nimble fingers quickly undoing the top two buttons of Yukhei’s shirt. “You should feel better now.”

Yukhei glances down at where Mark’s fingers are still holding onto his shirt after having successfully unbuttoning it. “I know I’m not in the place to give you advice,” Yukhei starts, watching as Mark’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. “But if there’s one thing I learnt from all my years of being my dad’s fucking puppet, it’s if you want something, you have to take it.”

He’s said this to Mark before. If there’s nothing Mark remembers, he should at least remember this. “Because no one else is going to give you want you want,” Mark continues, repeating the quote the same way Yukhei first said it to him years ago.

Yukhei nods, swallowing forcefully after. He looks down at Mark and keeps his gaze steely. “So do you want me or not?”

There’s a split second of puzzlement that flashes across Mark’s face before he schools his expression into a neutral one. His grip around the fabric of Yukhei’s collar tightens. “Yes,” he breathes out, tugging Yukhei down so he can crash their lips together.

Yukhei’s lips are chapped from the alcohol he consumed throughout the entire night but Mark’s lips are smooth against the drag of his own. Mark tastes bitter like the whiskey on his tongue but Yukhei doesn’t care as he licks into Mark’s mouth, cupping Mark’s face between his hands so he can better control the angle.

He’s kissed Mark enough of times to know which angle works best for them. Just a slight tilt of his head—just a little bit, right there—and their kiss goes like clockwork. It helps if Mark’s body is pressed fully against him.

Mark instinctively steps closer, fully invading Yukhei’s personal space as they find their pattern once more.

The kiss is slow and messy. Yukhei swallows the small moan that escapes Mark’s lips and uses a hand to pull at the back of Mark’s hair.

Everything is familiar. From the scent of Mark’s cologne to the searing warmth of his body heat—every little feature is something that Yukhei’s become accustomed to once upon a time. This isn’t new to him whatsoever.

“I want you,” Mark whispers against Yukhei’s lips when they stop briefly to catch their breaths. His lips are still pressed gently against Yukhei’s, the two of them breathing each other’s air. “You’re the only one I want.”

Yukhei can’t help the small grin that stretches across his lips. He brackets Mark’s head between his arms, burying his nose into the crown of his head. “Then show me,” he says into Mark’s hair, relishing in the way Mark shudders under his touch.

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

It’s months later when Yukhei bumps into Mark at Lee Group’s annual ball. The grand affair is held at a five-star hotel and the ballroom is decked out with various decorations in the company’s signature blue colour.

Yukhei is accompanying his father, and he coughs twice deliberately when he sees Mr. Wong wave Mr. Lee over with Mark in tow.

“Lee!” Mr. Wong exclaims, guffawing when his old friend shakes his hand. “Congratulations on the new development. The floor plans look so nice that I’m planning to get a unit myself.”

Yukhei locks eyes with Mark who’s standing behind his father.

Mark glances back at him with a mischievous smile curling on the edge of his lips.

The two older men quickly realise that they’ve been talking amongst themselves when they stop. Mr. Wong quickly waves for Yukhei to come closer. “Yukhei!” he says gruffly, resting a hand on Yukhei’s shoulder. “You must know Mr. Lee’s son, Mark.”

Yukhei raises an eyebrow at Mark, who only looks back at him with a smirk. “Yes, I know Mark, father,” Yukhei replies, holding back the urge to smile.

“We know each other, Mr. Wong,” Mark quips up, stepping forward from behind his father. “We know each other _very well_.”

The incredulous expression that spreads across the two older gentlemen’s faces doesn’t escape past Yukhei’s notice. It’s a mix between bewilderment and amusement.

“That’s good,” Mr. Wong says after a while.

“Mark, why don’t you take Yukhei with you as I talk to Mr. Wong?” Mr. Lee suggests, waving his son away with a hand. “Introduce him to your cousins. And the Seo boy. They’ve been loitering by the bar all night.”

“Johnny,” Mark corrects. When his father scrunches up his face in puzzlement, he clarifies what he said. “The Seo boy’s name is Johnny.”

Mr. Lee dismisses him once more. “Go, go!” he orders.

Mark shrugs as he gestures towards the direction of the bar. He follows closely behind as Yukhei takes the first steps forward. When they’re fully out of their fathers’ earshot, Mark laughs. It’s a hearty laugh coming straight from his belly. He falls into pace with Yukhei as they near the bar where Mark’s associates are standing.

“I don’t know you that well,” Yukhei says, flashing a lopsided grin.

Mark looks at him wordlessly before rolling his eyes and walking towards the bar. “Johnny, Taeyong, Jeno, and Donghyuck,” he lists off the four of their names before pointing at Yukhei behind him with his thumb. “This is Yukhei.”

The tallest man with a cheshire-like grin looks Yukhei up and down. “And he’s…” he trails off.

Yukhei freezes. He looks at Mark who’s leaning over the bar to order two glasses of whiskey. He doesn’t have to say anything before Mark turns around and saves him.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Mark announces simply, quirking a finger to beckon Yukhei to come closer. When Yukhei does, he slips an arm around Yukhei’s waist, squeezing his side lightly. “On and off… six years? Seven years?”

Yukhei purses his lips. “Tell them only the good things, please,” he huffs. He reaches out to shake their hands each in turn. “Wong Yukhei.”

Mark’s arm doesn’t leave his side as he passes Yukhei his drink.

“Does your dad know?” The man who earlier introduced himself as Lee Jeno asks.

Mark looks up at Yukhei and shrugs. “I told him last night,” he announces, taking a sip of whiskey. He smiles at Yukhei after.

Yukhei can’t help but smile back. “Really?” he whispers under his breath. If not for the glass of whiskey in one of his hands, Yukhei would grab Mark’s face and kiss him silly.

Mark laughs. “Really.”

Yukhei ignores the rational part of his brain and leans down to peck Mark’s nose, savouring the giggle that he elicits from Mark.

Mark’s cousins are looking at them with identical expressions of surprise and Donghyuck even looks impressed. “I didn’t think he had it in him,” Yukhei hears Donghyuck mutter to Taeyong, who only laughs lightly in response.

 

“No, you can’t sell my mansion,” Mark yells into the phone on a quiet Sunday evening. “I don’t care what price it’s going for on the market. I’m not short on cash. _Don’t sell my mansion._ ”

Yukhei watches lazily from the sofa as his boyfriend paces around the living room.

“I don’t care that no one lives there! I don’t care that my father told you to list it!” Mark continues shouting, visibly frustrated with his personal assistant. “I’m making arrangements to renovate it next week. There will be people living there soon. Yes. I’m going to live in it.”

There’s a pause.

“So that’s all it took for dad to back off my house?” Mark rolls his eyes. “Just because he’s feuding with that developer doesn’t mean I have to sell my property.”

Mark eventually gets off the phone and he collapses onto Yukhei’s form on the sofa. He nuzzles his face into Yukhei’s neck, sighing contentedly after. He’s like an overgrown cat dressed in luxury loungewear.

“You’re moving in with me,” Mark says after a while, pressing his lips against the pulse point on Yukhei’s neck.

Yukhei laughs. “What?” He runs his fingers through Mark’s hair slowly.

He feels Mark pout against his neck. “I’m not selling the house ’cause I made plans for us to move in next spring,” he explains, sitting up on Yukhei’s legs. “I’ve got everything settled to start renovations. The interior designer’s coming over next week.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Yukhei asks in a teasing manner.

“You do, that’s why the interior designer’s coming.”

Yukhei chuckles to himself as pulls Mark down by the collar of his hoodie to kiss him strongly on the lips.

Mark laughs as he pushes himself up. “You said if I want something, I have to take it,” Mark states, his hands steadying him as they’re planted on the centre of Yukhei’s chest.

“Because no one else is going to give you what you want…”

Mark smiles as he leans back down, pressing his lips lightly against Yukhei’s. “And I want you. Only you.”

Yukhei finds himself laughing into the kiss.

 

Yukhei can’t help but think that all the riches in the world wouldn’t be worth as much as this.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse for this. my time was needed elsewhere (i.e. [mafia/cop au fic](https://twitter.com/heibighead/status/1130855748580200449)) but i hate myself and wrote this in... 4 hours.  
> this is 100% self-indulgent my apologies to the plot
> 
> twt: [@lucashaeyadwae](http://twitter.com/lucashaeyadwae)


End file.
